


Hey Mister Fireman

by captainhurricane



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, First Meetings, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-10
Updated: 2016-09-10
Packaged: 2018-08-14 06:28:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 735
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8001916
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/captainhurricane/pseuds/captainhurricane
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>hot disgruntled fire fighter and rambunctious college student au</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hey Mister Fireman

  * hot disgruntled fire fighter and rambunctious college student au




It's not the first time the local firemen get a call from Paladin College. Sometimes it's just someone's secret cat stuck on a tree, sometimes it's a sorority girl stuck on a tree, sometimes it's an actual fire but mostly it's because of the fraternity Kappa Phi and its raucous students causing trouble.

  
  


Shiro is entirely too old, too tired and entirely done with frat kids. He might have been one of them only a couple of years ago but they had been a long couple of years and had helped him put that time into perspective: it's not that cool to be a party animal day and night and barely scramble on when it came to actually studying.

  
  


”You boys are in real big trouble now,” the Chief grumbles as another drunken, half-naked student is ushered out of the building. Smoke trickles out of two of its windows, apparently someone had gotten too frisky with the curtains and their cigarettes. The stereo still blasts on some ear-splitting song, audible even through the thrum of smoke and flames.

  
  


Most of the boys are well into being in their twenties and growing into actual men, pretty much all of them are drunk, half of them stoned and some coughing up their lungs from the smoke. Shiro joins his colleagues in putting out the fire from the two ruined rooms, hides himself behind his visor and helmet, the fire growling but finally starting to shizzle into nothing but ash.

  
  


The fire itself hadn't thankfully had much time to spread but the smoke had: it had slithered through the halls, down the stairs and out of half-opened windows, pushed its way through every crack it found. The frat boys really should be sitting down by the paramedics, cover their quivering, coughing selves up but some of them had managed to drag their bottles with them, one is apparently already trying to get his lighter to work.

  
  


Shiro is too tired for this shit. His shift had lasted too long, had been too mind-numbingly boring and he just really, really wants to go home.

”All clear, Chief,” he says for his colleagues as they finally walk out of the frat house. It's one of the more prestigious ones; three stories and a pointy roof. The boys' parents won't be particularly happy to hear how much they have to pay in damages.

”Good,” Chief grumbles, nose-deep in a notebook.

  
  


Shiro tugs off his helmet and sighs deep, snags off his glove to brush his face.

”Wow,” someone says close to him. Shiro blinks, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. He knows he looks like a mess: the helmet is unforgiving for hair and face after all but at least it protects him from potentially melting them off.

”Uh,” Shiro says, frowns at a gaggle of frat kids, half-laying on the ground. Despite the chilly evening, most of them aren't wearing shirts, black scribbles all over their bodies and maybe- paint?

 

”Yeah,” one of them says, grinning up at Shiro, long jean-clad legs stretched in front of him. He's one of the few with a shirt on: a regular loose blue one with the sleeves rolled up. A distinct flush of alcohol on his cheeks is a telltale sign of drunkenness even if his gaze is clear.

”You know, I got my future told just today, fireman, Sir,” the kid says, does a mocking little salute that Shiro huffs at.

”Look, why don't you just-” he starts but the boy clicks his tongue. Runs it over his lip. His gaze runs up and down Shiro, calculating and sharp.

  
  


”Ya know what that future told me, fireman, Sir, dude?” The words slur and stumble all over each other but the hunger in them stirs something in Shiro. He shifts, makes an uncomfortable little noise. Glances at his colleagues and then back at the not-really-a-kid.

”That I'd meet tall, dark and handsome and all that jazz. Can't tell what colour yar hair is exactly but hot damn, dude,” the kid says casually and then has the audacity to smirk.

  
  


Shiro clears his throat.

”Uh,” he says again. ”My hair's mostly dark,” he says and bites the inside of his cheek. Shifts his weight from one foot to another. The kid snickers, shifts to highfive one of his buddies.

”So, what's your number, mister fireman?”

 


End file.
